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Page 261
"No," Alinor laughed, "no man is guilty for the face with which he was born."
She was glad of the turn the conversation had taken. Having said all she wanted to protect her daughter, Alinor wished to cozen Ian into happiness again. Something had hurt him. He looked tired suddenly, and he leaned back against the pillows on the bed with drooping shoulders. It was true he had spent such a night as might make a man weary in the morning, but there had been no sign of it until their discussion of wedded love began. It had been a mistake, although an unavoidable one, to bring his mind back to the woman he could not have. Alinor touched his nose with the tip of her finger.
"A face like yours might seduce a saint, but if it seduces anyone newwhen I am byit will look quite different after I find out."
"Where did you think I would find the strength for such a thingwhen you were by?"
"I noted no feebleness in you, even after you had falsely cried 'enough.' Shame on you for disturbing my well-earned rest."
"Shame on me!" Ian exclaimed. "What did you expect?"
Alinor did not answer that except with a laugh of acknowledment. Unaccustomed to the usages of the marriage bed, Ian had been wakened when Alinor pressed herself against him or threw a thigh and an arm across his body. He had responded as a lover instead of as a husband, rousing himself to caress Alinor into another coupling instead of merely accepting her embrace as a sleepy sign of contentment and affection. Alinor had not corrected him, partly because by the time she was sufficiently awake to explain, she had also been sufficiently roused to welcome his advances and partly because she judged, quite rightly, that he would have been hurt by her refusal. There would be plenty of opportunity to clear up the misunderstanding when they

 
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